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Capitano, Thrain, was not generally someone who could be considered to be vulnerable. No, being a Harbinger meant that the concept was quite foreign to him. Vulnerability wasn’t something that a Harbinger could afford, not ever. It got one killed, or worse; usually worse. Not that he figured he’d be one for that sort of thing anyway- it just wasn’t much encouraged in Khaenri’ahn culture. Alchemy, intellect, that was more important. It was that very intellect that allowed Capitano his heart, so he owed that value of his people some respect.
It was that exact heart that was giving him such issues now, however, so maybe he fucking didn’t. The occasional twinge in his chest was no issue since he had a high pain tolerance. The fits of agony that had gripped him lately, however, were different. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could just steel himself through. It was only a matter of time before his vision blurred in the middle of an important meeting and he collapsed in front of people he’d rather not see him so much as flinch.
“Well it makes sense, you’re not exactly using it the way it’s intended to be used.” Columbina said to him one night when he’d complained, gesturing with her fork. It was rare for them to eat dinner together, but for the sake of appearances some of them tried to keep in contact. Columbina and Capitano weren’t close, but she was more tolerable than the others. Usually. “Isn’t it supposed to soak up memories from the ley lines and convert them to knowledge for you? Sort of like the situation that Dendro Archon has, with her weird connection to them so I heard. Well, no matter what it does- I don’t think holding souls was in the job description.”
Capitano frowned. She couldn’t see it, anyway, so it didn’t matter what facial expressions he made. “No, it’s not, but I don’t think that matters. It should hold steady, it’s Khaenri’ahn technology.”
“And has your body held steady against the test of time, Capitano?” She asked, her fork still against her lips as she smiled, oblivious to the bite her words had. Or, perhaps, simply unable to comprehend the way her words felt. “I think you should get it checked out.”
“What, by Pierro? I’d rather not.” He spat, grimacing at the thought of The Director. The man was of the same nation as him, but they couldn’t be more different. Columbina just rolled her eyes.
“No. Stars, you boys are so dramatic you know that? None of you have any sense. I mean by The Doctor. Dottore knows enough to help, I’m sure, he’s been experimenting on Hilichurls this whole time and they’re not built that different from us.”
Capitano wondered why he tolerated her. Of course they weren’t; they used to be his kin.
“Columbina-” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t you refuse to let him anywhere near you?”
“Well, yeah, because he’s a creep. But I don’t have a weird metal heart that’s causing me fits of unbearable agony, so…” She gestured again, taking a bite of the sickeningly sweet cake she was eating. Capitano could only hesitate, for a moment, thinking.
Dottore was generally regarded among the Harbinger as the one who crossed lines the rest of them wouldn’t. They all had their own moral codes, their own values to stand by. None of theirs matched up with what was generally seen as the correct moral code, sure, but they still had their own ideas of right and wrong and how much wrong was justified if you were doing it for the right reasons. Dottore, on the other hand, seemed to not have that. He was willing to do whatever it took to get to his goals, regardless of who he tore apart or what natural laws he broke in order to get there. At first Capitano had admired his determination, but then he’d heard the others whisper of what Dottore counted as a goal worth doing wrong for. Not all of his goals were so lofty, and not all of his wrongs so justified. Sometimes, he merely wanted some fun. Sometimes, others were the victims of his ideas of fun.
So Capitano had dismissed the idea that Dottore was worth paying attention to. If anything, he was worth staying the fuck away from, and certainly not someone Capitano could trust to diagnose and repair whatever was wrong with his heart.
Columbina spoke, blinking at him in polite, confused concern. “Capitano. Hello? Y’know, Childe says he treats him fine. If the lower ranking ones can enter his lab and live to tell the tale, I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Childe only lived because the Tsaritsa would have tormented Dottore had he done anything. Childe is her favorite lapdog.” Capitano stood, deciding he’d had enough of this conversation. Columbina didn’t look surprised by his sudden decision to exit.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll say. But still- if it’s only getting worse you’ve only got so much time before the decision gets made for you by one of those fits!” She called after him as he left, much to his irritation.
It took another wretched fit of pain that left him breathless and shaking, leaning pathetically against his bed frame from where he sat on the floor, before he finally caved. He couldn’t tolerate this any longer. When it was quiet the spirits begged him, afraid their own lives- or whatever their current existences could be considered- were at risk. He was sick of listening to them, and sick of canceling his business abruptly only to lay in bed and wait for the pain to pass. So, reluctantly, he spoke to Dottore.
“What do you know of Khaenri’ahn technology?” He stood in the doorway of Dottore’s smaller study, having walked in with no warning nor greeting.
Dottore, who was hunched over and busy trying to break something apart in a strange little dish, froze and looked up at him. He didn’t move from his position, only his head and eyes moving like a deer in headlights. As he processed the question, though, he abruptly sat up straight like he’d been given a very interesting opportunity indeed.
“Enough,” was his answer, “what do you need?”
Capitano wasn’t fond of the enthusiasm. He didn’t falter anyway. Faltering would only show that he was hesitant to begin with, which would make Dottore aware that this matter was fragile. “My heart has been paining me.”
“Your heart!” Dottore stood, dish and experiment forgotten as he spun around and walked to a nearby bookshelf to flip through the titles. “Yes that thing really is interesting- it’s causing pain? What sort of pain, how long? How frequent? All the time or in attacks-”
“If you don’t slow down I’m leaving and pretending I never said anything about this, and no one will believe that I ever asked. Your enthusiasm is disgusting.”
“Right.” Dottore said, unbothered but at least slower. “My questions still stand. I can’t even begin to figure out a problem if all you’re giving me is ‘pain,’ that’s not how this works. Pain can mean anything, especially in a body like yours. Pain is just a ‘something is wrong’ sort of signal from our body; that means nothing to me without the specifics.”
Capitano crossed his arms over his chest, pausing for a moment before speaking. “It’s in attacks, maybe twice a week, starting a few months ago. They started smaller, but now they’re agonizing and they last anywhere from ten minutes to an hour. The pain lingers all day, but milder, after the longer ones. There’s been three this week and the last one was the worst by far. The spirits within have expressed restlessness, but it’s the cause of their restlessness rather than the other way around.”
“Any other symptoms?”
“Other than insomnia because they won’t shut up? Just things you’d expect with any extreme pain. Some nausea, blurry vision, breathlessness.”
Dottore hummed, quietly nodding. He bounced his head side to side in contemplation, but eventually came to a conclusion. “I’ll have to look at you. I’d say you were having heart attacks, but clearly that’s not something your heart is capable of giving you. With the fact that there’s mechanisms involved, I can’t say for sure until I see the heart itself. Then I could probably fix it in the same sitting, assuming it’s something I understand.”
“Fine.” He avoided hesitating, even though he wanted to. “When?”
“Two days. That gives me enough time to hunt down the tools I’ll need.”
Thus, Capitano found himself stepping into Dottore’s clinic. He avoided the place like the plague; they all did. The one upstairs was smaller, at least, a little less like the torture chamber he kept below ground like those actions shouldn’t be allowed to see the light of day. Which, to be fair, was absolutely the right course of action on Dottore’s part. The clinic above was for medical purposes, the lab below was for something else. Something Capitano didn’t think about much if he could help it.
“Coat, shirt, everything above the waist off. Mask too, it’ll just get in the way.” Dottore demanded as he motioned to the chair Capitano presumed he was meant to sit in. It was a big, clunky thing, leaned back for ease of access. He was surprised Dottore demanded anything of him so casually, even moreso something as unspoken of as him taking off his mask. But this was Dottore’s clinic, so he didn’t comment. He’d chalk it up to professionalism taking over.
He watched as Dottore double checked everything he had, wandering over to the chair as he began to take off the layers of his clothes. He sat down, setting the fabric and metal jewelry carefully on a table on the opposite side Dottore was on. He ignored the way Dottore glanced up from his setup a couple of times, his eyes tracing the exposed side of his rib cage.
He should have expected the staring, to be fair. His body wasn’t exactly pretty. Long ago a dark, inky blue coloring had blossomed from his chest, spreading outwards as it grew into some sort of plating. It and the glowing blue veins that came with it covered most of his skin by now. The center of his chest had long since begun to open up, exposing the mechanisms of both metal and flesh inside. Some of his right side had also been ripped away in a fight, and never truly healed, which Dottore couldn’t seem to stop staring at.
His face was much of the same, as he lowered the metal helmet that kept him hidden and set it aside. Dark blue plates with bright cracks in it covered more of it than was left exposed at this point. He supposed he should be grateful; it had covered what flesh failed to when the side of his face began to deteriorate. He leaned back, avoiding meeting Dottore’s gaze or showing any sign of discomfort.
“Are you in any pain now?” Dottore asked, which was a rather polite way of wording ‘how the fuck do you walk around like that.’
“No, just during the fits.” Capitano muttered, leaning back in the chair and watching as Dottore sat on a tall, wheeled stool and began to carefully pick out and set aside the various things he’d gotten for cutting. It wasn’t like he’d need those; the heart was exposed. He leaned over Capitano, not hiding what looked to be something akin to excitement or awe as he watched Capitano’s glowing pulse, a bright light hidden behind ribs and organs beating rhythmically.
“Is this why you wear so many layers? To keep this hidden? You do realize certain parts of you have either worn away or were taken out when the heart was installed, yes? I won’t need to dig near as much as I should- I won’t even need to cut anything.” Dottore was already tilting his head to get a better look, touching the edge of the opening in Capitano’s chest. Capitano took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand and knowing Dottore could see it happen. He wished Dottore would avoid touching him so casually, like his fingers weren’t tracing along something that shouldn’t even be exposed in the first place.
“I did find at one point that thin shirts let too much light through, and yes I know things were taken out. Why do you think there’s metal there?”
“The metal,” Dottore’s fingers moved to the metal in question, tracing along what was clearly mimic a breastbone and the cartilage that should be holding things in place, “is easy to open up, and made to be easy to open up. This was made with maintenance in mind, Capitano. Have you ever performed such a task on your heart? Were you told to?”
There was a pause. He honestly didn’t remember. It had been so long ago he’d been given his heart, and it had been all a blur even then. He wasn’t sure if he’d been told, wasn’t even sure if the metal replacement for a breastbone had been part of the installation or something that happened later. “It was made with maintenance in mind?” He repeated dumbly before he could think too much.
Dottore nodded, his hand trailing down the metal breastbone. Capitano was trying not to look down too much, but suddenly he regretted that since there was no warning before he suddenly felt something move in his chest. Dottore gripped the metal, wiggling it a little bit and only stopping a few moments after a gasp tore itself from Capitano’s throat.
He didn’t quite look sympathetic, but it felt like he was attempting to at least mimic sympathy. “It has hinges,” he explained, moving to Capitano’s wrists, “if I unlocked it that whole thing would raise up for me to get into you. It’s definitely made with the intent of allowing regular access for someone to take care of the heart.”
Capitano, albeit still reeling a bit, managed a frown. He watched as Dottore rolled his chair so he could move his wrists, not bothering to ask him to do it on his own, and slipped them into bindings. “I don’t remember much from Khaenri’ah. Not as much as I’d like anyway. I don’t know if maintenance was intended, but if it was I must have forgotten. Why are you binding me?”
“I’m binding you so you don’t hit me for doing what you asked me to. Anyways, the fact that you haven’t done any repairs along with your misuse of it for the sake of those spirits of yours is probably what’s causing this. Let’s see what the damage is; you’re lucky it’s just fits of pain. I can’t believe the poor thing’s lasted this long.” Dottore rolled his eyes like it was Capitano’s fault his heart was giving out, unceremoniously raising the metal cage that kept organs in place.
Capitano gritted his teeth, his eyes focusing on the metal. He was painfully aware that this was what kept things from just outright spilling out of his chest, and Dottore had just opened it up. He was also still aware that Dottore could probably see every breath in and out, and he forced his breathing to be slow and even.
At least, he did until he felt Dottore’s hand press in and push something slowly, agonizingly, to the side. He was probably being slow and careful, and as gentle as he could, but that didn’t really matter to Capitano as he felt what he assumed was a lung be moved. He was coherent enough to want to keep his composure, so he clenched his teeth hard enough to hurt, but he couldn’t do much better than that. He certainly couldn’t stop his whole body from going rigid.
“Breathe.” Dottore said simply, as if it were an afterthought, glancing a bit to the side. To the lung that wasn’t moving. “You’re not breathing. I mean if you want to pass out that’s certainly a way to do it, but I’d much prefer you awake.”
He took a breath, the sound shuddering and weak. “Warn me before you do things like that, you idiot. Why do you prefer me awake?”
“Conversation.”
“Excuse me?” He didn’t keep the incredulous tone from his voice, and Dottore shrugged.
“You know things about your body I don’t. You are the person who knows the most history of that heart; you being awake and able to answer questions is important. And perhaps it’s just much more fun when my patients are awake and telling me what it’s like, hm? Not often I get to dig around in an immortal who’s not spewing vitriol at me half the time.”
“What is wrong with-”
“Warning.” And then whatever he did made Capitano forget the conversation entirely. His eyes flew open, and he felt Dottore’s free hand press hard against his shoulder. He stood up from his stool, looming over Capitano even more than before and putting all of his weight into it. For a moment Capitano wasn’t quite sure why until he realized it was to keep him still. It was only half working with the way he writhed, choking out a few sounds that he didn’t know he could make. He felt fingers drag along something inside him, though it was far from his priority to figure out what. All he cared about was how it felt. It wasn’t quite a pain, although pain was certainly one thing he felt alongside it. It was something deeply, deeply exposing, something that flooded his mind entirely and left no room for anything else. Even the pain felt almost dull in comparison.
“There we are,” Dottore almost purred, still leaning his full weight down onto Capitano’s shoulder as his hand finally stilled for a moment, “There’s the heart. I wonder…?”
The moment of reprieve was short-lived, as Dottore traced along a vein. His eyes were unfocused, unseeing as he focused on what he felt. Along the vein, up around the back of it, and- “There. This is the largest vein in your body. It connects to the heart seamlessly- I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take this out of you without causing significant problems.”
Capitano was barely listening. He was too overwhelmed to even curse himself for the keen that escaped him, the sound helpless and pathetic. Luckily for him, that sound made Dottore’s relentless fingers stop if for just a moment.
“What, is it too much? Sensitive?” He asked, the tone teasing. Capitano took in a breath, intending to tell him off, but all that came out of him was an even more pathetic cry as Dottore’s hand shifted considerably in search of something. His vision was blurring.
Dottore didn’t seem to care all that much. He kept a careful watch on his face, silently gauging just how much he could actually handle, apparently unwilling to slow down for even a second until he hit that threshold. “I need to find whatever I’m meant to leave behind so your arteries don’t make a mess the moment I take it out. Then again you already look a bit of a mess, maybe blood wouldn’t be much of a downgrade.”
“Don’t you dare!” Capitano gritted out, though it sounded more desperate than angry.
Dottore’s hand in his chest stilled for a moment, and the hand on his shoulder- which was aching by now, but it was such a small sensation in comparison- reached up. Capitano took the chance to catch his breath, his eyes fluttering shut as Dottore brushed back his hair and rested a cool hand on his forehead. It was soothing, it was what he needed.
“I wouldn’t. I know better than to truly destroy a beautiful thing like you. Are you going to pass out?”
Capitano shook his head. He hated the way something in his chest, something Dottore couldn’t dig around in, fluttered a bit at the soft tone in his voice. Too soft. Dottore gave a quiet hum of approval at the answer.
“Good, I’d hate for that to happen. Now, I need to find where it detaches. There’s clearly a section that acts as a ‘backup generator’ so to speak; I need to separate that from the rest of your heart.” Dottore explained to him, still speaking over the now quieter sounds he made when the doctor resumed his search along the heart. “It shouldn’t be hard to find. How does this feel, anyway? Can you speak to me?”
Capitano was probably going to strangle him later, but at the moment he couldn’t think enough to want to do that. He panted, trying to focus on Dottore’s hand tracing down his face and then moving to the side of his neck, staying there, instead of the one in his chest. Except the one in his chest felt overwhelmingly…
“Too much.” He summarized, poorly. He figured he could be forgiven for failing to articulate himself when Dottore’s hand was wrapped around his heart. “Too much, it’s too much.”
“Are you asking that I give you a break?” A raised brow. They both knew a break only meant prolonging this. Capitano shook his head. Dottore nodded and got back to work. It was agony, but a sort of agony Capitano could no longer say he hated. It was impossible.
Finally, Dottore gasped. “Here!”
And then all at once, with a click in his chest, Capitano felt as though Dottore surely must have found the off switch to his brain instead of to part of his heart. His whole body relaxed with a shaky sigh, sinking into the chair as his eyes slipped shut of their own accord. There was a moment of silence, of stillness, where he floated. He felt something strange in his chest, a movement that made him moan. He didn’t think about where he was, why he shouldn’t be making such noises, or what that sound would even be taken as. He couldn’t bring himself to process what it was that was happening, unwilling to exert the significant effort it suddenly took.
There was no longer anything in his chest, no pleasure nor pain. Then, a voice.
“Captain? Captain? Good gods, have I killed the first Harbinger?” Part of him dully thought that killing him obviously wasn’t possible in response. The laughter in the voice, however, maybe should have hinted to him that it was a joke; an attempt to provoke him. When it didn’t shake him from the strange daze, there was a snap beside his ear that made him gasp.
“Captain. Are you conscious? I need you to come back to me.” The voice said, a clear command in his tone. Capitano gave a soft whine in response, only barely managing to open his eyes. He couldn’t focus them, even when the owner of the voice slowly moved a finger across his vision in an attempt to get his eyes to follow. The voice hummed, displeased.
“You’re awake. Is it unpleasant, are you in pain?”
Capitano shook his head.
“No pain. Do you remember what we’re doing?”
There was a pause in which Capitano had to recall it. What was beyond the foggy headspace he was in? Right. The heart. Dottore. He nodded, his eyes still half-lidded.
“Good.” Capitano felt his breath hitch at the word and the way it was said, or perhaps the way Dottore brushed his hair back again. “Then you’re just relaxed, aren’t you? I should have expected this. Most of your energy comes from this thing. Of course the moment its taken from you, you’d feel docile.”
Capitano shuddered, his eyes finally focusing on Dottore. Dottore’s hand was covered in blood, holding… his heart. An intricate, almost glass-like mechanism, blue and glowing and beating softly. Capitano couldn’t help the way the image struck him. Here was this man he hated, this man he knew to be cruel, and in his hands was the very thing that kept Capitano’s life from being sheer agony. That kept the spirits of Natlan, or those he had taken in at least, safe.
He could break it. He could shatter it on the ground right now.
Instead, Dottore moved to sit on a stool beside the chair, and as he carefully traced along one of the veins with clear awe in his eyes Capitano forgot completely about the idea of Dottore breaking the thing. He could still feel the touch, and this time it felt good. Good enough to make his head fall back and his mind go freshly blank. The sound that escaped him was something he’d call pitiful later, but at the moment he didn’t care how he sounded. He felt and it was like nothing he’d felt before. The heat pooling between his legs was the only familiar part about it.
“Oh,” he heard, the surprise in Dottore’s tone enough to make him realize he should be mortified, “Oh, I thought that was a one-off thing when I pulled your heart from you. I thought it was just relief. But no, it’s sensitive, isn’t it? Really, actually sensitive?” Dottore’s eyes were wide, staring at Capitano like this was the best possible outcome. “It feels good when I touch your heart.”
Capitano, even as dazed as he was, knew to protest. He knew to deny it. And he would have, if Dottore wasn’t smart enough to drag his hand down the side of the damn thing. Instead of telling Dottore off, he moaned again and arched his back a little as if writhing would do anything to adjust the feeling of Dottore touching the heart that wasn’t even in his body anymore.
The look on Dottore’s face was a wicked glee.
He let his thumb slowly rub circles into the cool material, he guessed some sort of crystal, and watched as Capitano squirmed. He let his gaze slide lower, and sure enough- he was hard. Aching, probably, already. Hell, he could have been this whole time and neither of them would have noticed with how focused they both were on his chest.
“Isn’t that interesting. Khaenri’ahn technology really is an interest of mine, you know. I do intend to repair your heart, and I will take the utmost care in it. The fact that you’ve let it go so long without any maintenance is a travesty; it’s a living breathing thing, it’s a part of you. You should treat it with care.” He lectured, much to Capitano’s annoyance since he couldn’t focus easily on what was being said when he could still feel his thumb against the heart, circling. “But this… this is truly unique. Wonderful. You’ve claimed all these years that you hide yourself for the comfort of others, but I think it must be more for your comfort. This is such a gift.”
He would have been a bit more touched, perhaps, if Dottore didn’t suddenly set the heart on the metal table and run a finger up what looked to be a crack in it. Capitano yelped, actually yelped, which made Dottore grin.
“You do make interesting noises.”
“I can’t help it when you don’t fucking warn me.”
“Mm, I suppose. Fine, then, I’m going to open this up. These are hinges.” Dottore said, sounding disappointed that he’d been called out for his tactics. Capitano expected the sudden bliss, this time, and after the comment about the noises he made he managed to keep himself from moaning. He did not, however, keep his eyes from rolling back as Dottore opened up his heart. He relaxed again, shuddering as he felt gentle touches in his chest. He knew the heart was on the table, but when he wasn’t looking at it, all he could focus on was the feeling of it.
Dottore traced along the edges of each section, whispering quietly. “This is a work of art, not just intellect. I’ve never seen something so intricate. I wonder if the pleasure is an intentional side-effect of the craftsman- did they know you? Perhaps think you needed to relax a little?”
Capitano couldn’t stay still, his hands gripping the arms of the chair as he arched a little as if trying to push his chest further into Dottore’s hands. His brow furrowed when he realized Dottore was accusing the craftsman of his heart of thinking he needed to get laid, essentially.
“Absolutely not, it was the best engineer we had,” He began, already ready to defend himself, “They were-” He hesitated. They were… a lot of things, actually. They were a genius, truly the best, and they had also been rather eccentric. They only had the technology for his heart because they’d tested various technologies on themselves, for fun. And he had a vague memory of them saying he had a stick up his ass…
“Mm, taking that as a yes on if they wanted you to get laid or not.” Dottore muttered, chuckling. “Perhaps their efforts have finally gone rewarded, albeit five-hundred years late.”
“You are most certainly not going to be ‘getting me laid.’”
“Am I?” Dottore asked, raising a brow, and whatever he did left Capitano reeling. His hips rocked forward, and he strained against the bindings for the first time since Dottore had been nearly elbow-deep in his chest. “Maybe I’m not doing a good enough job yet, if you’re still talking like that.”
“Stars,” Capitano muttered shakily, “Are you actually going to ever figure out what’s wrong with it?”
“I’m working on that too. You don’t have to worry about that.” Dottore leaned over him again, reaching his bloodied hand back into his chest and slowly pressing his hand back into it, his thumb finding the section of the heart that was meant to stay in him. “If you’re still worrying about that, clearly I’m doing something wrong. Just worry about how you feel.”
He’d definitely achieved that. Capitano whimpered, jolting when Dottore’s hand pushed itself against what remained of his heart in his chest. It no longer felt like pain, not after the disconnect between the parts of his heart had settled its strange daze over him. Instead it felt like a warmth, a fluttery sort of thing that made him roll his hips slowly, shakily, into nothing.
“I can’t-”
“Already? Aren’t you supposed to be saying that far far further into this, darling?” Dottore asked, almost sounding genuinely concerned as he glanced away from the heart on the table and to Capitano’s face. His tone was sweet but condescending, like he felt a bit bad for overwhelming Capitano so much but was enjoying watching him squirm. “Then again, I suppose this has been drawn out a while already, hasn’t it. Are you wanting to cum, have I wound you up too much? Poor thing.”
“No!” Capitano couldn’t believe he’d just said such a thing. This wasn’t supposed to be sex, why was this sex? When had it started being sex, even? And why did he himself sound near tears? “No, please don’t make me, it’s too fast, too much-” he had no doubt that Dottore could make him, if he wanted to. He’d find a way.
Dottore cooed, the motions of his hand on Capitano’s heart slowing for a moment into something less overwhelming. It was hard to tell if the sound was gentle and sympathetic, or condescending and pitying. Perhaps a bit of both. “Shhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, I won’t. Not yet, then. I’ll just make you feel good, and it won’t be any more than you can handle. I won’t push you too far. For now you just let go, stop thinking, let it feel good. I want to hear you tell me how it feels.”
Capitano let the words soothe him, even if they did have a condescending edge to them. He didn’t want to admit how nice that part felt too, so he ignored it in favor of trying to word his response in a way that didn’t make him sound like an idiot.
“It… it’s so much. I can’t focus on anything else. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt, it’s so much more- it’s easier when you slow down.”
Dottore made a vague sound of acknowledgment, nodding. “That makes sense. It’s a far more vulnerable part of the body, one I shouldn’t even technically have access to. What about here?” The hand in Capitano’s chest drifted upwards, not stopping even when he moaned. Even when he arched upwards himself as it only got more sensitive, trying and failing to get away, the sounds he made turning awfully high and whiny for someone so hellbent on composure and pride. Dottore’s fingers hit some sort of bend, stroking along the inside of it until Capitano was breathless. “This is the aortic arch. Does it feel good?”
“So fucking good,” He couldn’t believe he was saying it, but he was too out of it to filter himself, “so good, hard to think.”
“Oh, of course it is. I couldn’t expect you to do such mental work with my hands inside you, could I? That would be cruel of me.” Dottore’s voice softened, quieting down as if to be careful with how much sensory input he gave Capitano at once. “You must be so exhausted, it’s time someone made you feel like this. Just make more pretty sounds for me and don’t think too hard about it. You deserve the moment to let go.”
Capitano wanted to properly question it, protest the implication that he was exhausted, point out the audacity that took coming from a Harbinger ranked lower than him. He didn’t have the capacity to form a coherent argument, not when he felt delicate fingers stroking again and again, relentless, right in the spot that seemed to be most sensitive. He was doing it on purpose, surely. All Capitano could manage was a breathless sound of confusion. “What?”
“What, do you think I don’t notice? Please. I’m disconnected from the rest of the Harbingers because I’m a monster and they all hate me, you’re simply disconnected because you… are. There’s so many expectations; the first ranked Harbinger, The Captain, you’re drowning just as much as any of us.” Capitano wasn’t sure if he was imagining the edge to the words because the position was vulnerable, or if the way Dottore spoke truly did sound predatory. Like he knew that he was pushing sore spots, all while running his fingers along spots that did entirely different things to him. “And you shouldn’t be. You’re a beautiful thing, Captain- so intricate. The exterior is all pride, but once it comes down to it the inner workings are fragile.”
He spoke of him like a machine. Capitano wanted to snap at him, as difficult as it was to come up with anything actually biting to say. Dottore cut him off before he could, apparently seeing it in his eyes. “I’m not insulting you, that’s a compliment. So many expectations, asking things of you, but someone should be appreciating this, no? All these little parts working together, it’s a miracle you’re functioning as well as you are, a testament to the ability of flesh and mechanism to coexist. Yet they ask so much of you, as if your very existence isn’t a thing to marvel at. You never let your guard down, do you? Perhaps you should. You deserve to just shut down, for a little while. Quit being so damn guarded.”
“You rank just below me,” he breathed out, “you have every reason to-”
“I have every reason to appreciate this as the opportunity it is.” Dottore responded firmly, the fingers within Capitano starting to move from the sensitive, but comfortable, to dangerously unfamiliar places. This time they found something that jutted out from the bend he’d been stroking, something that Capitano didn’t expect to be tube-shaped but Dottore clearly had since he promptly curled his finger around it. Capitano let out a wretched gasp, and Dottore’s free hand suddenly pressed against his shoulder again to stop him from squirming. “Do not move. You need to be careful. This is a connector between two arteries, so unless you want me tugging on that because you’re moving so much, stay still.”
“Sensitive-” Capitano protested, or more accurately whined. How could Dottore ask him to stay still when every little movement made him forget anything else existed? It wasn’t fair.
“I know, I know. I bet it feels good.” Dottore sounded a little too pleased, his voice a little too close to Capitano’s ear. “You can enjoy it. Just relax, let me work and don’t squirm so much.”
His finger squeezed just a little, earning a sound that bordered on pained, before he let go of the connector and dipped lower. This time Capitano didn’t have to try and relax, a shudder going through him as his body seemed to simply accept what was happening and melt into the fresh overwhelm. Dottore pressed between two arteries, most likely, his fingers sliding easily but undeniably having to push a little to get where they wanted.
Dottore seemed to suddenly gain some sense of patience, stilling for a moment. “Do you think you could be still if I moved? I don’t want to break you.”
Capitano nodded, his voice breathless and weak when he spoke. “Better. Feels nice, not painful. I can be still.”
“Good,” the praise was not lost on Capitano as Dottore went back to the heart on the table, “just relax. Focus on this.”
Capitano didn’t need to ask what ‘this’ was, since then Dottore’s fingers slowly moved out of the little crevice between arteries and then right back in. Dottore’s request to focus on it was laughable; he couldn’t focus on anything else if he tried. The slow, almost cautious rhythm to the movements was less overwhelming than everything else Dottore had done, but somehow it felt better. It stripped him of the usual need for composure without any warning; all thoughts of pretense left him.
“Oh stars below-” His words slurred almost, his head falling back. Dottore gave a soft, amused hum and glanced at him.
“I must be doing something right if you’re pulling out the Khaenri’ahn sayings.”
“I-” his fingers pressed deeper, harder, less cautious. “Dottore!”
“Oh, that’s very nice. Such pretty sounds you make. I didn’t expect someone like you to be so loud, you know, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised- the body has its way of overriding our willpower when something so major is happening to it. Normally that shows in the way of adrenaline when one is injured but- well. Perhaps your equivalent is moaning and whimpering when someone is practically fucking your heart, hm?”
Capitano, normally, would have fucking growled at him for a comment like that, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care. The steady thrusts were doing things to him, the pace even and relentless and decidedly in places that those motions should never ever be happening but his body did not care about that. His body cared that it felt good. It was being given to him by the second Harbinger, a man who had every reason to injure him as badly as possible and render him incapable of battle, a man who committed acts that made Capitano sick, and yet he found himself unable to care about that either in the moment.
“I- I can’t help it.” He managed, which was half an attempt to repair his ego and half a pathetic, horny statement of helplessness. Dottore seemed to care far more about the latter half.
“You can’t, can you? That’s okay.” He cooed. “That’s exactly what I want. You don’t have to keep fighting so much. Just accept that you can’t help it; it’s not your fault. You can do and say anything here and I’ll know you couldn’t help it.”
It felt like pity, and it disgusted him, and it somehow worked magic anyway. It was permission, and he didn’t need permission, but it still made him whine and suddenly words were flowing anyway. “Please. Please. Please, I can’t. It- it feels so good, it’s too much...”
“It’s okay,” Dottore’s fingers pushed deeper between the arteries than they maybe should have, feeling bold, “I’ve got you. No more thinking, none of that. Just let me take you apart. Someone should have done this so long ago, made you feel like this centuries ago. I would have tried had I known you were this beautiful. I’ll take care of you, you just need a little longer and you’ll feel much better.”
Capitano had to take a second before he remembered what Dottore was even talking about. Right, the heart. His heart. This was maintenance, or supposed to be, and yet all he could think about was how horny it made him. He could feel something in his chest starting to build, the heat pooling between his thighs matching it, a tension ready to snap. He couldn’t even gasp out a warning, which he refused to admit was because some part of him wanted permission to cum, as it started to overwhelm him. Dottore was pushing him, speeding up a little, and it made him shake. He couldn’t take it, he was-
He suddenly let out a sound he didn’t know he could even make, his whole body jolting as something in his chest reacted to something other than Dottore’s fingers. It was a blinding sensation, one that would have sent him over the edge if Dottore didn’t immediately go still. It left him shaking and panting, just on edge.
“Oh dear. Sorry, I thought giving you something else to focus on might override that. Apparently not. Hm.” He muttered something about this part being difficult, almost visibly starting to go over different plans in his head, but Capitano had no tolerance for that. He was close, so achingly close, and Dottore had fucking stopped.
“No please-!” He choked out, squirming as much as he could without risking Dottore telling him off for it. “Please, don’t just stop like that you can’t just stop like that-”
Dottore seemed genuinely caught off guard by the pleading, blinking down at him in confusion for a moment. His eyes trailed from his face to his chest, then downward to his weakly rocking hips and shaking legs. Realization dawned on him, watching Capitano keep begging, and he crooked his fingers. The yelp that earned was satisfying, and the whimper Capitano let out when he didn’t move any more than that was even better.
“Oh poor thing, were you close?”
The wordless cry in response made him have to fight the urge to grin. He could get drunk off this. Capitano clearly already was drunk off this. He set the tool he’d been holding aside, reaching over to brush hair from his face, leaning close. Capitano melted and sighed in clear relief as he slowly started to move again, his fingers stroking against what to Capitano was just a vague feeling of bliss and to Dottore was the pulmonary trunk, an artery he could fill a paper about.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should have noticed and given you my full attention. I’m not done with your heart yet; you have to make a decision. You can cum if you want, but you’ll have to handle what I do to your heart with nothing else happening to distract you. It’s either that, or I can slow down and keep you on edge so you have something to keep your focus away from the heart.”
“I don’t care! I don’t care, I need to-” He gasped, his head falling back as Dottore finally started to press deeper like he wanted. “I need to cum, please, I can’t. I can handle whatever after I promise.”
“Mm, you’re sure?” He sounded uncertain, but nothing about the way he touched Capitano was uncertain. He was pushing him closer on purpose. “That feeling that made you yelp was what I need to do with your heart. You can be good even with that happening?”
“Yes. Yes, I’ll be good.” He nodded, the words spilling out of him before he could stop them. “I’ll be good, just- close, close, so close-”
Dottore just watched with something akin to triumph and awe. Maybe for him, this was proof he could tear apart the first Harbinger in far more important ways than a battle. Maybe he just liked the look on his face. Maybe he really did just get off on knowing every little thing about Capitano’s body, far more than Capitano would ever know himself.
Whatever it was he saw, Capitano would never guess what it was that made him lean forward and bite his neck. His teeth were sharp, painfully so, and Capitano felt them break skin and draw blood. That, paired with the pleased hum Dottore gave him, was as good as any verbal permission. Even if it hadn’t been intended, it would have pushed him over the edge anyway.
All the tension snapped at once and his eyes rolled back. Dottore kept him from moving too much, which was helpful because his back tried very hard to arch as if it could push further onto Dottore’s fingers despite them being in the center of his chest. His mind felt like it shattered, overwhelmed by the sheer force with which the orgasm hit him and perhaps just as overwhelmed by the feeling of Dottore in him and over him and beside him all at once.
“There we go, good,” Dottore’s breath brushed against his neck, “no more whining and trying to act like this isn’t exactly what you needed. Look at how hard you’re cumming, isn’t that better? Must have been so pent up.”
Capitano could only shake and whimper as Dottore drew it out, his fingers relentless, even as it began to fade. He made a vaguely pained noise, trying to signal that it was starting to be too much.
“I know, I know.” Dottore stroked a few more times, still, before finally letting up. Instead of going still, this time he pulled his fingers out of the space it had found, and then his hand fully out of his chest. Then he felt more pleasure, more than he quite wanted, as Dottore took his heart off the table and carefully fit it back into his chest. “You’re doing so well, just a moment longer. I know it’s too much, but this needs to be back in you. Almost done.”
Capitano shuddered, feeling it click into place, and then feeling Dottore pull the metal ribcage back into place. He traced his fingers along the metal, squinting at it, seemingly making sure everything was settled into its proper place.
Then he pulled away from Capitano, leaving him in his daze for a moment. Capitano didn’t pay much attention to what he was doing, just closing his eyes and taking the moment to recover. When he came back around, it was to cup his face in a gesture more gentle than should be coming from someone like him. “Do you feel okay?”
Capitano nodded, still shaking from the aftershocks. He wasn’t sure he’d stop shaking for the next hour. Dottore hummed, nodding back.
“Good,” He said, reaching for a glass and holding it up to Capitano’s lips, “now drink. Don’t fight me over this, unless you want to explain why you’ve lost your voice at dinner with the Tsaritsa and The Director tomorrow.”
He didn’t plan to. He drank the water, not even making a sound to complain when Dottore tilted the glass to keep him drinking until half of it was gone. He set the water aside, then, turning back to him. “I still need to finish with your heart, but that can’t be done today.”
Capitano kept his eyes closed, taking a deep breath. “What… what is the state of it? Why did you put it back?”
“I’ve been working on it this whole time.” Dottore ignored the incredulous look from Capitano, as if it had been obvious. “Your heart has a core within it similar to ruin guards, and that’s the issue. Luckily for you, I happen to have a similar core that I suppose I can sacrifice for the sake of keeping you upright. Aren’t I a martyr. That being said, I should at least check over the other core to make sure it’s compatible, and I need some time to do that. It would be best for you to go, get some rest, and come back tomorrow. That way you’re more likely to handle it, and I can be sure that I’m not making you worse.”
“You said we would have to do it today.”
“Yes, well, I’m not exactly a saint known for never lying, am I?” Dottore shrugged, resting a hand on Capitano’s shoulder. “It was hotter to say that you’d have to just tolerate it further. I think you might pass out if I tried to replace the core right now.”
“I appreciate the confidence.”